Erik x reader
by RebelLoveSong
Summary: A series of Erik x reader one shots. I've been dabbling with this idea for a while now, but whether you read them as a reader insert or a Christine POV I'll leave that up to you.
1. Chapter 1

You were never quite sure why Erik was so stressed all the time, but it was easy to tell when it got the better of him. He would get agitated, the smallest sound could set him off. Other times he would retreat into himself and it would be impossible to get through to him. He would hunch over his piano, furiously scribbling or ripping up pages and throwing them across the room in anger.

You hated seeing your angel like this. He spends all of his time putting unnecessary pressure on himself, for reasons you will probably never know. The opera house, the operas, keeping up this Phantom façade. It seems like too much for one man.

You walk into the lair to find Erik at his usual spot, bent over his piano. Writing at force and then moving back to the keys, and then again to his pen.

"Erik?" You call his name. He doesn't respond. There wasn't even a movement to suggest he heard you at all.

Slowly you walk towards him, unsure of what mood he would be in.

"Erik, my love?" Still no response. You walk towards him, cautiously placing both hand on either sides of his shoulders.

You feel him jump under your touch. Yet he remains silent. It wasn't uncommon for Erik to put himself in a trace like state when he was writing. He had spent years doing so without interruption, going days without eating and very little sleep so he could finish particular scores. Bringing you into his life wasn't going to change that.

He takes his hands away from the piano, letting them rest on his knees. You lift your leg over the free space on the piano stool, straddling it as you gently turn his body away from yours.

Slowly you begin to work your hands across his shoulders, pressing and kneading each tender spot. Erik's breath becomes heavier and his body melts under your touch. You hated seeing him in any form of pain, especially something that could be remedied so quickly.

You take your time with him, massaging his back, taking care to respond to every gasp and gentle moan that he exhaled. Your fingers working their way along the back of his neck. He was still cautious over any contact you made with him. There was no getting past his lifetime of isolation, where every gesture towards him was often met with a malicious outcome. He still tensed at the smallest movements you made, whether it was holding his hand, or lying on his shoulder at night. But eventually he would calm down and embrace it. You weren't going anywhere after all.

You continued your efforts to relax your angel for what seemed like forever. Years of knots bundled together between his shoulder blades. You dropped your hands away from him and watched as he rolled his shoulders forwards.

He was still silent. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him, resting your head on the centre of his pack. There was still no movement from Erik as you both sat there, listening to the rhythm of his heart beat.

Eventually he lifted his hands and took hold of yours, bringing one to his face and placing small gentle kisses along it.

"Thank you, ma chérie." He kept your hands in his grasp as you closed your eyes, your mind returning to the sound of his steady heartbeat.


	2. Chapter 2

You loved seeing Erik in the morning after a night of moderately sound sleep. Of course that hardly ever happened. Most nights were spent composing until he passed out over his piano, or on a sofa. The other nights were the nightmares. The long hours he spent screaming and shaking beside you, visiting the darkest parts of his already twisted mind. The nights where you could do nothing but whisper soothing sounds in his ear and pray it would pass quickly.

But on rare occasions your angel slept softly and soundly, often sleeping in longer than his usual crack of dawn. You would be woken during the small hours to the feeling of his head resting against yours, or the pressure of an arm wrapping around your torso.

He was still funny when it came to sleeping together. It took you months to coax him into actually sleeping in the same bed, and even so he would often wait until you were fast asleep, and then wake before dawn, as to leave no trace he was ever actually there.

It would have been a lie to say it wasn't bothersome. He was your husband after all. Even at the best of times he was cautious around your touch. Afraid that the gentlest pressure would cause you to crumble. Or that intimacy of even the smallest form would have caused a change in your feelings towards him. And no matter how many times you tried to reassure him, his actions stayed the same.

You rolled over, eyes still closed, and let your head fall into the solid form beside you. Glancing up you discovered Erik was still asleep, his body facing towards you, the mask-less side of his face pressed heavily into the pillow. He refused to sleep without his mask, even though it make him uncomfortable. You tried to persuade him to remove it, but the fear of himself still resonates strongly throughout his actions. You had grown to accept it; maybe time will be kind to the both of you. Maybe someday he'll see that there really isn't anything to be afraid of. One day he'll know that you love him regardless of the shape of his face.

You prop yourself up on one arm to watch him. Observing the rise and fall of his body with every breath. It reassured you to see him in such a peaceful state, ensuring the moment lasted as long as it could. For his sake.

Gently your free hand moves towards his face to brush some falling pieces of greying hair away from his eyes. Removing them from his face, you gently run your hands through his hair, watching as his body shifted from your touch. The corners of his malformed mouth curve into an almost smile. He looked almost blissful, as though the horrors of his past did not exist. It was just him in this one pure moment and that was all that matters.

Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his forehead you decide to move yourself out of bed. Maybe he would appreciate something to eat when he wakes. If it weren't for you, Erik wouldn't eat at all. You stand, stretching the aches from your body before pulling the bedsheets back up towards the pillow.

He doesn't stir as you pad your way out of the bedroom, stepping across the creaks in the floorboard with the gentlest of pressures. You wondered why though. He was in such a deep sleep.

He didn't wake for several hours after that.


End file.
